Not to sound like a curmudgeon, or even live up to my oft-used
moniker,
”
Old-Man Matheson,
”
but I hate farewell columns.
They’re a little silly and a little self-centered, as well as
nauseatingly reflective, and they keep leaving brown spots on my
lawn, and they’re stupid.
The truth is, I hate writing about myself, which is probably why
I’ve written about others for four years now. But I did want to
write a little something here, thanking the people of San Benito
County for pushing me in the right direction.
Not to sound like a curmudgeon, or even live up to my oft-used moniker, “Old-Man Matheson,” but I hate farewell columns.
They’re a little silly and a little self-centered, as well as nauseatingly reflective, and they keep leaving brown spots on my lawn, and they’re stupid.
The truth is, I hate writing about myself, which is probably why I’ve written about others for four years now. But I did want to write a little something here, thanking the people of San Benito County for pushing me in the right direction.
And to tell you that I’m leaving, of course.
I remember my first day in Hollister. It was July 2, 2007. I had close to a full beard going on back then, which, in hindsight, was hideous. There was an earthquake that day, too — my first — but that part is essentially meaningless, as was the nod to my beard.
What was important were the three voicemails left on my answering machine, which I still remember to this day and can, finally, smile about.
First day. Three voicemails.
And, to be honest, they were pretty upset with me, these voicemails, or they were pretty upset with whoever was running the sports department during the time when there was no sports editor. Since I was the first to show up, I took them as a direct hit.
The voices were upset that there had been no coverage of the local Babe Ruth All-Star tournament, which, believe it or not, was something I was questioning whether we should even be covering in the first place. (Can you imagine? The nerve of me in 2007, not thinking we should cover Babe Ruth. Ha!).
The voicemails, though, they scared the bejeezus out of me at first. I hadn’t been indirectly spoken to like that by anyone in particular in like … ever.
They were angry. They were upset. They wanted coverage.
But what they did, these voicemails, was not only provide a swift kick to my sports-writing pants, but they also showed how passionate this town is about the game, whichever game it may be.
I liked that.
Although I did cry myself to sleep that night, I knew I made the right decision to have moved from Oregon. After all, the job is more fun when the readers are passionate, involved, opinionated and knowledgeable, and it’s better even when they might actually read your work. (Sidenote: This is just a general feeling of mine and by no means a dig at the great state of Oregon or its many readers).
So, I appreciate every bit of feedback I’ve ever received in this position, as the sports editor of the Hollister Free Lance and The Weekend Pinnacle, whether it be positive or negative. Keep it up, too. The new guy will love it!
The passion in this community is unmatched. It’s sometimes a little crazy, even a bit rabid, but unmatched, nonetheless.
And I thank every coach, player and parent who has made my job easier and welcomed me into the community.
It’s been a privilege.
Thursday was Andrew Matheson’s final day in Hollister. He will be taking over a similar position at the Santa Cruz Sentinel.
